


Witch Next Door

by Yemi Hikari (Yemi_Hikari)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bullying, F/M, Gen, Girl next door, Neighbors, Parody, Plot Twists, Romance, Satire, Slice of Life, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-08-30
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25247668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yemi_Hikari/pseuds/Yemi%20Hikari
Summary: A girl moves in next door to the Dursley's prior to Harry Potter's first year. Many romance novel that Aaralyn has read about a boy and girl next door ends with them falling in love. She finds herself crushing on Harry. However...
Relationships: Dudley Dursley & Harry Potter, Dudley Dursley/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 2
Collections: Focus on Female Characters, Wizards Vs Muggles





	1. The Boys Next Door

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Wizards_Vs_Muggles](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Wizards_Vs_Muggles) collection. 



> Disclaimer – I do not own Harry Potter. This fanfic contains AU/AR material due to the addition of a character to the Harry Potter storyline. We'll just hav

The small car drove into small town of Little Whinging, boxes tied to the top of the car. As the old car drove along the boxes bounced slightly, threatening to suddenly slip through the ties. Aaralyn Rabanal watched from the back seat of her parents car, her eyes peeking at the level of the window as her parents' car turned onto Privet Drive.

The young girl's blue eyes quickly took in all of the houses that were passing by. All of them looked the same to her young mind, no true apparent differences. Her father pulled into the drive of number six, stopping the car hard. There was a motion from the front and a loud thump as one of the smaller items fell forward and landed on the hood of the car.

Aaralyn felt herself jump her eyes turning suddenly towards the front end. Her mouth opened up. "What happened?"

"Something came lose," her father stated.

Her mother turned up her nose a bit. "I told you it wouldn't hold."

"And I told you it would hold until we got here," the man laughed, his brown mustache and gotee bobbing slightly.

"You get a new job, we move to a new place and you still can't be serious?" the woman asked firmly. "This is a chance for us to have a fresh start. No one knows us here."

At that, Aaralyn grabbed the door handle and popped her door open, quickly getting out. She stepped out of the car, shutting the door. She quickly moved in a circle around the car, only to have her mother open her own door to stop her, prior to her getting back to her passenger side door. She glanced up at her mother's stern face.

"Little girl's shouldn't be running around," the woman grumbled. "The movers will be here soon."

At that, her father stepped out and simply headed for the front door, unlocking it as he did so. "You'll love your new primary school."

The small girl curled up her lip a bit. "It's near the end of the school year... I shan't be able to make friends again."

"I am sorry pumpkin, but we had to move," Mr. Rabanal said as the door clicked open. The small girl glanced back at her mother, before sliding through the doorway. She glanced around the empty house, her lip pouting with frustration. As soon as she saw the stairs, she hurried up them. She hurried back to the stairs and opened her mouth. "Which room is going to be mine?"

"The door to your right as you go up the stairs," came her mother's voice a few minutes later. The woman started up the stairs before saying anything. "No yelling in the house."

At that, the small girl hurried to her window and opened it with relish. Aarylyn stuck her head out, and saw a dark haired boy around her age or a couple of years younger working in the garden, sweeping debris from the stone path. A smile spread on her face at the thought of having someone living next door. "Hello!"

Her mother came suddenly from behind her and pulled hard on the back of her daughters dress. "Inside, now..." the woman hissed. "That is not proper behavior for a young lady."

At that, Aarylyn let out half of a deep sigh, stopping as soon as she saw her mother's stern face. It was time to back down.

**M**

The person who did nearly all the chores around the Dursley house happened to be their nephew, Harry Potter. The exception to the rule lay in his Aunt Petunia's flower gardens. To her, that wasn't a chor, but a thing of pride, something her horrid nephew would ruin if touched. Despite this, she would still have him sweep up the stone path out back as this was something he definitely could not mess up.

As he swept away, he suddenly heard a voice coming from the house to the south. Glancing up, he thought he saw someone in the window. The image he possibly saw only lasted for a few minutes, so he personally had his own doubts that someone had been there. The house had been vacant since the little old lady next door passed away.

The little old lady had been one of the few neighbors that his cousin had gotten along with. The reason for this was the fact that she made some of the best sweets anyone had ever tasted. Dudley wormed up to her simply to get the treats she handed out. Of course, Harry had simply heard about the treats being the best as Petunia had made it clear that her nephew was from bad seed.

He continued sweeping, paying heed to what he was doing in order to make sure it was to his aunt's standards. As he finished up, he heard what sounded to be a rather large truck pull up out front. He walked to the house and stepped in through the door. He set the broom beside the door before dusting off his feet. He then walked to the front door and peered outside in time to see his aunt peeking over the hedge at number six.

The next thing she knew, she was hurrying inside. Harry headed towards the hall in time to show up in front of her eyes. "Why aren't you out back sweeping?"

"I heard something out front," the boy stated firmly. "I went to go see what was going on."

"It really isn't your business," the woman stated, her face rather flushed. "But just so you know, we have new neighbors next door." At that, she bustled over to the kitchen and there were sounds of her digging things out of the cupboards. Harry peeked around the corner to see what his aunt was up too. She glanced up. "Well, just don't stand there. Hand me the cocoa and flour."

The boy complied and set the items on the counter, before continuing to take orders from his aunt as she made the chocolate cookies. The kitchen quickly filled with good smells. As Petunia pulled them out of the oven, Dudley came in, his nose having the ability to tell when food was finally ready to eat. His hand reached out to grab one of the cookies. However, Petunia slapped it away quickly. "Harry will put in another batch while we go over to greet them."

Dudley made a face at this, however quickly followed on his mother's footsteps while Harry stayed in the kitchen. She made quick steps out the door, Dudley's nose causing him to follow in her footsteps. The round boy had a rather miffed look on his face and a soft whine came from his throat. However, this quickly stopped when they came to the door of the neighbors house and he simply began to pick his nose.

The door was opened wide and a woman peered out watching the movers. Behind her a girl with bright blue eyes also peered forth. Dudley's piggy eyes narrowed as he took in the girl's thin brown hair. However, as usual Petunia payed her darling angel no mind. "Hello. I am Petunia Dursley from next door. I brought a welcome gift for you and your family. I hope no one is allergic to chocolate."

"Thank you," the woman stated, taking the plate of cookies from the woman.

"Do you live at number eight?" the ten year old girl suddenly ask.

"No, I actually live at number four" Petunia stated firmly.

"I saw a boy in your backyard earlier and he isn't with you," the girl stated.

This caused the woman's jaw to drop open and suddenly push her daughter behind her. "I apologize for my daughters rude behavior. If you don't mind, I'll speak to you later."

"Completely understood," Petunia stated, grabbing Dudley's shoulders and guiding him back home.

**M**

The movers having arrived soon after the Rabanal family started moving furniture quickly. Ms. Rabanal stood to the side, letting out a sniff as if she had a cold. However, her daughter knew other wise. She also knew to simply stay out of the way. By the time the movers were nearly finished, her mother moved almost as if she was startled.

Stepping forward, she moved to the door. She said nothing at all. The young girl moved to behind her mother. She saw a blond haired woman with a blond haired boy standing there. The woman held out a plate of cookies in her hands. There was a rather round boy behind her, slowly picking his nose, his eyes narrowed at the two.

"Hello. I am Petunia Dursley from next door. I brought a welcome gift for you and your family. I hope no one is allergic to chocolate," the woman stated, a huge smile on her face. Aarylyn glanced up at her mother, noticing that her mother's eyes remained locked on the woman, not looking down at the boy behind the woman.

After her mom simply thanked the woman, taking the cookies, the small girl spoke up. "Do you live at number eight?"

"No, I actually live at number four." The preteen could swear the woman smelled something bad, the way her face twisted up.

The girl ignored the face and simply remained perky. "I saw a boy in your backyard earlier and he isn't with you." At that, her mother suddenly pushed her back. Aarylyn could hear her mother apologizing. She then felt her ear grabbed and she found herself dragged into the kitchen.

"What do you think you were doing?" the woman stated, her face making it clear that she was miffed.

"I thought I might make friends with that boy I saw," her daughter replied, her tone clearly stating she was not happy at being lectured. Particularly since she hadn't a clue what she was doing wrong in the first place.

"Why not make friends with that young man that was with his mother?" the woman stated.

"You mean the piggy picking his nose?" the girl stated, letting out a sigh.

"Piggy? Piggy!" the woman snapped out. "Don't let me hear you say that again! I won't ruin this chance to have a normal life!"

"But he really was picking his nose!" Aarylyn bubbled out, her small face twisting in irritation. "That's gross!"

"I did _not_ see him picking his nose!" her mother yelled. "Just... just go to your room. Now!" The preteens mouth twisted up in a frown, and then she hurried off, only to hear her mother yell something about not running in the halls.

**M**

Her room was filled with box after box. Despite the furniture being in the room, her bed was not made. Not to mention her small bookshelf was empty. She walked over to the one box labeled books, only to find it already open. She opened it up and grabbed a book from the top, then went and pounced onto the top of her mattress.

She found herself becoming more and more into the book. She read for about an hour or two, only having progressed a couple of pages when she heard a knock on the door frame. She glanced up to see her father. "I see you're reading. Why don't you try something like Oliver Twist, instead of that?"

"Mum only cares so long as I read," the girl stated firmly.

"Your mum hasn't even looked at any of your books," the man sighed, going to sit next to his daughter.

"Is he going to have a room?" Aarylyn asked, not daring to look up.

"I think your mum is going to keep his stuff packed," Mr. Rabanal's tone had an emptyness to it.

"Mum isn't very fair. I just wanted a chance to make a friend with the kid I saw next door," the girl stated. "We move so much, I never get a chance."

"I promise... no more moving," the man stated.

"Mum always says otherwise. She always... I don't know..." the girl stated. "She acts weird, and then we move. She starts acting somewhat normal, then she doesn't anymore."

"So... what do you get out of those books of yours?" Her father was quick to change the subject.

"I don't get your question. Why read to get something out of it?" the girl frowned at this.

"Let me rephrase my question," the man sighed. "What do you like about those books?"

"I like the fact that the girl always gets the guy! I particularly like the ones where the girl is plain, ordinary, yet this guy all the girls fancy chooses her." Aarylyn went on to tell about how there were different types of novels that she read. Most of them had a fantastical edge to them, but all of them dealt with a girl getting her dream guy.

When she finally took a break, the man spoke up. "Are you sure you should be reading that? It doesn't seem healthy... thinking that you'll fall instantly in love at first site. Particularly since you are a bit... young."

"Mum has no problem, plus... I thought all the other girls were into things like this," the girl stated.

"I also think your mother would have a fit if she knew what you were reading," the man sighed. "I'll pull some linen for your bed, so please get to bed soon. You start at a new school tomorrow."


	2. Tugs

The smell of old books filled her nose as Aaralyn ran her thumb from cover to cover, letting the sound of the pages echo in her ears. She stayed up late, reading the romance novels she kept hidden from her mother. Despite her young age, she still found herself giddy at the idea of having her own romance like which she read in the books with the perfect lover. Fate seemed to bring the two lovers together, yet the stories also set her mind afire.

A knock at her door made the eleven-year-old jump, sliding her book under the pillow as her free hand tossed the covers off her head. Her mother knocked as the soft sunlight flitted through the window, the woman's smile breaking through. "Time to get up, Aaralyn dear. I hope you slept well your first night in our new house. It's time to go to your new school, sweetheart."

"Already?" Aaralyn felt her throat tighten, confusion setting in as her mind attempted to understand why her mother always insisted she start school the first weekday after arriving in a new home. Worse, she never found herself making friends due to how quickly they ended up moving. Despite the perfect life her mother attempted to present, Aaralyn knew pieces were missing, having heard her parents talking late at night, always about _him_.

Taking a deep breath, knowing starting into the next novel would need to wait. She sat up, heading over to the boxes labeled clothes which she'd not yet unpacked, hoping to find something which might make her first day at school go better. Nothing seemed cute enough, or any of the other things she looked for when picking an finally found the right outfit, only to stop short wondering if her mother would approve.

She finally decided she needed to just get ready to go, and headed downstairs to the kitchen where a delicious breakfast wafted into her nose. Aaralyn closed her eyes, finding the scent almost as pleasing as her books. Her mother placed on her plate portions which her mother thought suitable for an eleven-year-old girl before correcting Aaralyn regarding her table manners. The girl's lips pushed together, wondering if part of the reason she never managed to make friends were because of this woman's strictness.

Upon finishing braiding her hair, her mother ushered her out the door, planning on walking with her daughter to school for the first day. On their way past the house next door, the two nearly found themselves knocked over by an overweight child who seemed faster than he really was. He glared at Aaralyn, his nose seeming so pig like. Closely following him was the dark haired boy, far thinner than the other boy. A woman – a thin woman – called out from the doorway. "Dudlykins! I hope you enjoy your lunch today darling!"

Aaralyn frowned, wondering how anyone could like such a child, and yet admittedly she found herself slightly biased by the fact the overweight stature of the child more than anything. That, and she saw the kid picking his nose the day before. If there was one unromantic notion which did not fit her view from her romance novels, that was boys picking their noses and looking like complete slobs. Her mother smiled, paying far more attention to the boy's nice hair, and putting the charm on her potential gossip budy.

Glancing up at her room, she thought of the room which could have been his, yet would remained simply storage for the boxes and other things. Her mother attempted keeping up an air of dignity, as her father put it, a certain persona he other times called it, that presented herself in a positive light. He-who-must-not-be-named though for some reason made the impression of not being presented in a positive light, yet Aaralyn didn't understand why. He was special in that way.

"This is your daughter, Ms. – sorry, I didn't catch your last name yesterday."

"Rabanal. And yes, this is my only child."

" _That's most definitely a lie._ " Aarylyn reached up, tugging on her mother's sleeve. "Mum. I don't want to be late for my first day at school."

"Oh my. I see she can be polite when she wants to be."

"Yes, well, yesterday she was rather tired from our move. We're you Aarylyn?" Her mother piped up. "She's normally not like that. You're sorry, aren't you?"

She almost rolled her eyes, and yet knew how much trouble she'd be in _after_ school if she did so. "I'd apologize, but I don't know our neighbor's last name yet."

The idea came from hearing what their neighbor said, that she didn't know their last names yet. She hoped desperately, in a rather childish manner that this would get her out of apologizing. Instead, the woman of course answered, something someone older and more experienced would have expected. "I'm Mrs. Dursley."

"Alright. I am sorry Mrs. Dursley."

"Though to be honest, you really should be apologizing to my Dudley."

Aaralyn's eyes widened, her mother looking down upon her with a disapproving look. She shuffled her feet, attempting to scuff the nice new shoes her mother bought so she'd look good the first day. Her mother tugged her sleeve, indicating she shouldn't mess up her new shoes. Mrs. Dursley blurted out something. "Oh, she's got a crush on my Dudley. I'm not going to push the issue. Her shyness is actually rather adorable."

Her face twisted up at the thought of crushing on the boy. Her mother's eyes twinkled. "Oh. She likely does."

" _Do not._ "

"She's at that stage though where she's confused about such feelings. She knows nothing about romance."

Thankfully, neither adult caught her rolling her bright blue eyes. How could she not know about romance, when she read romance novels. She tugged at her mother's sleeve, attempting to get away from the situation. "Mum. We need to go."

"Oh. Yes. My Aaralyn's an avid reader and loves school." Mrs. Rabanal blurted out. Except, Aaralyn hated school, and hated reading anything other than romance. She didn't see the point in the assigned readings which didn't contain romance, which seemed like every single thing. She kept her grades up though, because her mother expected good grades. Letting out a deep sigh, she found herself pleased when they finally left for school.

Of course, things didn't get much better after arriving. Her mother kept telling the headmistress that Aaralyn loved reading and school, yet she didn't. In fact, she found school quite boring. She wasn't interested in any of the subject matter that the teachers taught. She knew today would be a very long day, as was any school day. The teachers were also left with high expectations of her because of her mother's bragging.

She found herself introducing herself to her classmates, her hands tucked behind her back. She saw both of her next-door neighbors were in her class. The boy with the dark hair and glasses hunkered down, probably hoping none of his classmates would notice him. Her other neighbor leaned over whispering to his friends, looking right at her as he did so.

Unfortunately for her, she found herself sitting right in front of Dudley Dursley, who snickered slightly as she approached. She sat down in her seat, hoping nobody would notice her. Worse, the teacher called on her, expecting her to answer questions she really didn't want to answer. She wanted to dive into her romance novels and hope she wouldn't have to much homework. When she focused on school work, she remembered _him_.

A quick tug on her hair made her let out a painful yelp. Someone tugged on one of those braids her mother made her wear every single day. She knew exactly who tugged her hair, and turned to see Dudley smirking at her. She wanted to turn and hit him as having her hair pulled hurt. However, the teacher noticed quickly and clicked their tongue. Dudley was made to apologize, but the incident was played up as kids being kids.

That, and her mother thought when she told her about the incident that Dudley had some kind of crush on her. Yet, she didn't think there was anything romantic about what happened. She wondered if _he_ were still around if he would understand. Rummaging around in one of the yet to be unpacked boxes, she pulled out a picture, taking a good look at her older brother before hiding it under her pillow.

Her parents avoided talking about him. Without thinking, she picked up one of her romance novels, diving into the words written on the page so she didn't have to think about the things the family simply didn't talk about. In her novels, nothing was missing and everything perfect.


	3. Witchiness

Hiding from life's problems never turned out well. As an eleven-year-old, Aaralyn couldn't possibly imagine the upheaval of everything which her family avoided with the simple arrival of a visitor. She also couldn't possibly imagine something causing an upheaval worse than the entry of Dudley Dursley in her life. When the other preteen wasn't busy picking on his cousin, he was busy pulling her hair. It didn't matter how much she tried avoiding him, he constantly pulled at those braids.

She was glad she didn't get invited to the zoo with him, as rumor spread quickly that the trip wasn't pleasant.

Despite her mother's unpleasant implications something was going on, she didn't think anything was going on. She kept being told that Dudley liked her, for why else would he pull her hair. The action didn't really seem right. Her romance novels didn't "read" like that, meaning the boy didn't act "that" way. Supposedly he'd be going to a boarding school, meaning she wouldn't _have_ to deal with him once she hit secondary school. She wasn't sure if this was a good thing, considering the fact she hated school like she did.

Then came the stranger knocking at the door.

Aaralyn was upstairs reading one of her books, glad summer meant no homework. She heard her mother yelling and she came down the stairs wondering what upset her mother. She sat on the stairs, listening to her mother screech. "My daughter is not one of those – those things. Leave."

"We aren't things, mam."

"Tell her. Tell her that our daughter isn't like that?"

Her mother was obviously talking to their father, yet Aaralyn didn't understand what any of the conversation entailed.

The woman however continued. "Nothing strange happens around her, right?"

"You know…" Mr. Rabanal spoke in a calm tone. "We've already lost one child because you wouldn't accept the truth? Are we going to lose another?"

Her blue eyes blinked, confused. Her father spoke of something she'd not heard for a long time. She remembered the fact he existed, but how he always acted like an older brother would. The silence meant he was in truth a hazy thought which she could only picture in her mind because of the picture hidden under her pillow with hopes her mother would never find. She found herself creeping down a little farther.

" _We've already lost one child because you wouldn't accept the truth? Are we going to lose another?_ "

"What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about." Her father continued to speak. "He didn't come home over the summers while he went to Hogwarts or the holidays because he knew you didn't want him coming home, but if you had your way you'd completely cut him off."

"We don't mention his name. He's a monster."

"He's not. If anything, you're acting like a monster."

There came a silence. She decided she didn't want to hear another one of her parents' arguments where her mother did all the yelling. She started down the stairs, heading out the door hoping to ignore the turmoil brewing at home. Glancing up at the sky, she saw an owl, her mind contemplating the sight as something out of one of her romance novels. Specifically, one of the ones someone once told her was a gothic romance novel.

Shouting was heard from next door, and she found herself grimacing, wondering why Dudley Dursley needed to be such a nasty person, for his voice bellowed out in a manner she could hear. She found herself walking away, wishing whatever was going on would simply end so she could go home. In turn, she found her way over to the park nearby as the summer war beat down on her.

She sat on an old swing, rocking back and forth thinking of how her mother would likely get angry with her because she was outside on playground equipment. She at least didn't have her hair up in the annoying braids she hated so much. She rocked back and forth, letting the swinging movement calm her. She looked at the ground, wishing she could return to her romance novel up in her room.

She didn't know how much time passed, but eventually her father came. "Hello Aaralyn. Are you ready to come home?"

"Are you and momma still fighting?"

"No. Things will be okay. Have you ever noticed strange things happening to you?"

Aaralyn frowned, remembering how she'd tell strange stories to her other family members and they told her she was having flights of fancy. She simply nodded her head, remembering family – the small unit her mother tried making presentable to the world, and the extended family – simply wasn't anything she wanted to recollect. Despite this, she knew strange things occurred, even though she wrote them off as simple stories she told herself.

"Well, we need to talk. There are some things you need to know."

She followed her father home, unsure of what would happen next. One look at her mother said the woman was still upset at whatever was going on, but her father managed to talk some sense into her. She sat at the table, listening to her father explain things.

She learned that she was a witch just like her brother was a wizard. Her mother's hands squeezed her own arms tightly. Her father explained that they had special gifts, and that her brother went away to a special school. She was to go away to this special school, but he was going to give her a few days to think about it because the person who came – a female witch, agreed to come back and help her get school supplies.

Except, she found herself struggling to believe, feeling as if she were living in some kind of dream. From out of her window, she saw more owls approaching the Dursley family household. The father seemed to be going paranoid, in the same manner her mother seemed to, if not worse. He started by nailing everything up, but then proceeding to pack the entire family into a car, muttering weird things.

Aaralyn didn't think much of it beyond the fact everybody but Dudley's cousin looked terrified. After all, she had her own dilemma.


	4. Getting Away

The Dursley family and the cousin who lived with them had left unexpectedly.

Aaralyn saw them leave from one of the windows in the house, yet she saw the panic in which they left. Watching them leave, she honestly wished for the chance of fleeing as well. Despite her father's assurance things would everything would end up being okay. The manner in which her mother kept standing straight as a rod with her arms crossed refusing to look her in the eye said otherwise.

She also still struggled with believing the story the person told her about strange occurrences actually not _being_ the result of her imagination. Yet, she remembered seeing the owls approach the house sending Mr. and Mrs. Dursley into a frenzy. The behavior of the animals fit into unexplained behaviors, yet the entire matter seemed distant – as distant as her mother now acted.

The female witch came back and Aaralyn found herself taking in the strangely dressed woman finally, as she rushed out of the house during her parent's argument the day before. The woman certainly looked _witchy_ , yet Aaralyn wasn't sure she wanted to look _witchy_ herself. She liked the way her non-witchy life looked in comparison, though she'd prefer if her mother didn't always pick her clothes which seemed from a bygone era just like the clothes of the witch who stood in front of her.

In that regard, her mother certainly didn't have any business calling the person in front of her odd, though her mother used much stronger words – the word monster.

"So, are you ready to go?"

"Yes. Aaralyn is ready to go."

Aaralyn glanced over at her father who stood with a wide smile on his face. She found his reaction a stark contrast from the reaction of her mother who simply stood glaring at the entire world, yet mostly out the window. She felt her mouth twist slightly with the knowledge her father was her staunchest supporter. She took a deep breath and nodded her head. The woman looked down at her through her glasses. "Take ahold of my arm."

"Why?"

"We are going to apparate, but this will be your first official taste of the wizarding world outside of the strange occurrences which have happened around you."

Aaralyn nodded, yet in the back of her mind, she didn't want things to change. Way too many times did things change leaving her constantly wondering when they would move next, or if she should even try making friends. She knew in the back of her head she'd move up from primary to secondary, so a change would thus occur, yet the want for something unchanging remained in her mind.

"Mom?" The woman, of course, didn't respond, leaving Aaralyn feeling deflated wishing she might simply read her romance novels over the summer. She held her personal doubts that anything about a school shopping trip would excite her. A sudden pulling at her stomach area made her let out a gasp, but they arrived soon at a part of London rather than the suburbs. Aaralyn blinked her eyes thinking…

"I know you likely think you are dreaming, but this is very much real." The woman patted her arm.

"Um… yes, Ms…" Aaralyn already forgot the woman's name.

"McGonagall. I will be your transfiguration teacher this year."

"I see." Yet she didn't. She walked with the woman towards a pub called Leaky Cauldron and walked in. The pub seemed like the very definition of seedy in her young mind with various men and women wearing…

… witchy clothing. Aaralyn found herself staring at everyone yet felt everyone staring at her. She swallowed, slight anxiety arising; she remembered too distinctly how her mother always demanded they move if she thought someone was staring in a way she thought everyone was gossiping behind the family's back. She wondered if there was any connection to _this_ – the fact she apparently was a female witch.

"Another student for Diagon Alley, Ms. McGonagall?"

"Yes, Tom. This is Aaralyn Rabanal and she's a bit shy."

One of the female witches chuckled. "There is no reason to be shy, my dearie. You are among Wizard and Witching kind."

"Wizard and Witching…" Aaralyn processed what the woman said, yet found herself concluding female witch was just witch and a male witch was actually a wizard.

"Follow me."

Aaralyn followed after the woman and watched her tap the bricks. Her eyes blinked as the bricks pulled away revealing a vast alleyway while her jaw dropped. Her hand reached up and clutched onto McGonagall's sleeve even though there was no need for transportation purposes. "This is…"

She couldn't get the word out but didn't notice McGonagall look down at her. "Amazing?" Aaralyn looked up with her eyes wide. "Most of those who are Muggle Born think such their first time."

"Muggle Born?"

"It means you are not from a Wizarding Family, that neither of your parents are a witch or a wizard. OF course, we're off to get your first wand, but before I do I must emphasize the secrecy regarding what we do. After all, you don't hear about us in the news, do you?"

Aaralyn shook her head but followed after the woman. They arrived at a strange shop where an old man came out of the backroom and peered down at her letting out a slight humming sound. "Another Rabanal?"

"Yes. This would be Alexander Rabanal's younger sister."

"Ah. Very bright young man. I wonder what he's up to right now, now that he's graduate."

The young witch found herself looking at the ground, realizing going to Hogwarts didn't mean finding what she'd lost. Indeed, she wondered if her brother would want anything to do with them given the way their mother was. Even without the whole wizarding thing, their mother was quite a controlling person, yet in the back of her mind, she couldn't remember a kind word spoken between Alexander and their mother. She barely remembered his face.

A deep sigh left her throat and the old man spoke. "Ah, yes. Getting one's first wand is quite the experience, isn't it? Your brother's wand was made of maple with a dragon heart core." That wasn't why she sighed, yet she didn't say anything as the man bustled through the boxes and tired various wands with her only to pronounce her wand was quite like Alexanders. Her wand was short at nine and a quarter inches with unicorn hair and made of willow. "Two very different personalities you and your brother have."

"I wouldn't know. I don't really remember him."

"Ah. I see." The man didn't push the matter and McGonagall paid for the wand with money she'd already exchanged for Aarlyn's father. Upon leaving the shop, Aarlyn noted the name of the shop and wondered why the place was called Olivander's, yet brushed this thought away as unimportant. They continued shopping and picked up a cauldron and potion supplies, among other things before going and getting her books.

Her eyes widened in delight. "Are there any romance novels?"

"Aren't you a bit young for romance?"

Aarlyn felt a slight blush spread across her cheeks, yet she wasn't sure if this came from the fact she was interested in romantic aspects as a form of the escape of if she felt chided by the woman who was a complete stranger. In the back of her mind, she wondered if the feeling of guilt had anything to do with feeling guilty knowing full well her mother might say the same thing.

Truth – she wouldn't even know where to begin searching for books she wanted to read, so the fact they simply procured books which were school-related felt apt. Everything in the back of her mind continued setting in and yet everything felt like a dream. Upon finishing the task of school shopping, which outside of seeing some strange animals felt just as boring as regular school shopping if not even more boring given the fact she couldn't look at any of the latest fashion trends, they apparated back to her home.

Her mother continued not looking at her and she headed up the stairs, but not before McGonagall reminded her secrecy was, in fact, important given the fact Muggles – those who couldn't perform magic – need not know about their world. In the back of her mind, Aarlyn couldn't think of anybody she might share her secret with, the closest being the cousin from next door, yet he was strangely absent.

Aarlyn took a deep breath and arrived in her room dumping everything onto the top of her bed. She sat down and began looking at one of the books; doing so reminded her how much she hated reading textbooks. With a sigh she shoved them under her bed knowing full well she would eventually need to pack them into a trunk for school. She instead turned to one of her romance novels and sank into the form of escape she actually knew and thought she understood.


	5. Pig Tails

Eventually, the Dursley family came back.

Watching the family come back, Aaralyn found herself wondering if the Dursley family snuck away just to kill their nephew. After all, the family returned without Harry during the middle of the night as if they were hiding something. For some reason, Aaralyn found herself grabbing a notebook meant for schoolwork so she might scribble down her musings on the matter.

She started by letting an eraser rest against her bottom lip while her eyes stared at the paper in front of her before scribbling down the words, " _I think the Dursley family killed their nephew._ " From there, she continued into the details regarding how they left with the boy she'd already forgotten the name of and didn't come back with him either. By the time she remembered the boy's name was Harry, she found herself writing a detailed story – or at least what she thought was a detailed story – regarding the Dursley's plot to murder their nephew without anybody knowing.

A knock on the door made her slide her notebook into a desk drawer. Her father opened up the door, smiling at her, yet the half-hearted nature of the smile made her think he was hiding something. Soon, he revealed the issue at hand. "Your mother would like you to take some cookies over to the Dudley boy. Apparently, he is ill."

"I don't want to."

"Please. Your mother is as upset enough as it is, given…" Her father didn't finish the statement and instead sucked in his breath.

Aaralyn took in a deep breath herself. "Please don't make me. They killed their nephew."

"What do you mean?"

"He didn't come back with them."

"He was gone?"

"You didn't notice?"

"No. They said something about their nephew doing something for the school they're attending when your mother asked, though to be honest, I think she's far more interested in their son."

"I'm not marrying that pig."

"Aaralyn. Language."

"Well…"

"Aaralyn."

She glanced at her desk, hoping her mother wouldn't read the bizarre musings in her notebook before standing up and heading downstairs. Reluctantly, she took the plate of cookies while her mother attempted wrangling her hair into two pigtails making Aaralyn feel younger than she really was. Letting out a sigh, she headed over towards the house next door and with one hand she knocked on the door. The door opened.

Instead of the chubby father or the scrawny mother standing there, she saw a familiar head of unkempt hair, the rimmed glasses on a pale face alone and the scar shaped like a thunderbolt. Her eyes blinked. "Wait. I thought they killed you."

"What?" Harry looked at her as if she'd grown another head.

"I saw you leave with them the other night, but you didn't come back with them. I don't get it."

The young man contemplated what she said carefully. "Despite everything that's happened, I've never really worried about them killing me."

"Yeah, but…" Aaralyn's mouth twisted. "Where were you?"

"Um. Shopping for school supplies?"

"Without your aunt and uncle?"

"I…"

"Harry! Who is it?" His aunt hurried up then. "Oh. It's you, dear."

"My mother sent me over with a plate of cookies for…" Aaralyn stopped, realizing she didn't remember the name of the boy either. "Sorry, I forgot your son's name."

"It's Dudders dear."

Harry shook his head, indicating that wasn't the actual name, but something told her he was trying to tell her _not_ to call Dudders that. Except, she didn't know what to call him, nor did she want to interact with him. Petunia placed a hand on Aaralyn's back, indicating she should step forward and up the stairs. She glanced down at the boy with the shaggy black hair and piercing green eyes. "Where was Harry when you came back?"

"Harry…" Petunia cleared her throat. "He was getting school supplies."

"Without you or his uncle?"

"Well, Dudleykins got sick, so a teacher from his school took him."

"Oh."

"And dear, you shouldn't hang out with Harry. He's going to a reform school."

"Isn't…" Aaralyn bit down on her tongue, realizing she'd almost said, " _Isn't the person who should be going Dudleykins?_ "

"I know my nephew quite well dear."

Aaralyn wasn't sure she should believe the woman. She also didn't like it when she found herself pushed into the room of a boy sitting in bed with the sheets pulled up. His face turned slightly red at seeing her. She shuffled her feet slightly. "Dudleykins, you have a visitor."

The door closed behind her, making Aaralyn feel vulnerable. After all, this boy pulled her hair. "Um…" She cleared her throat. "I brought cookies." She watched his eyes go wide, but she didn't approach, yet he didn't leave the bed like she suspected, almost as if he were hiding something. Her mouth pressed together. "Look…"

"The cookies?"

Her mouth twisted in irritation. "Would you let me finish? I don't remember your name."

"So? Give me the cookies and you can leave."

"I guess you don't care if I call you Dudleykins or Dudders? Because that's what I remember your name is because _that_ 's what your mother called you just now. I don't like you, but please don't make me say some kind of pet name for you."

"Why?" His face twisted slightly.

"Because that would mean you're my boyfriend, stupid! Don't you know anything!" She watched his face get slightly redder, yet she felt as if he might suddenly burst, what with how overweight he was. She glanced away.

"Oh…" He glanced away. "You can call me whatever you want."

"Didn't you just hear me!" Aaralyn choked before heading over and slamming the cookies down. "Fine! I'm glad I'm going away to school and don't have to see you until the winter holiday! Good riddance!"

With that, she stormed out of the room and down the stairs…

… right into the garden where Harry was. He glanced up, one of his eyebrows shooting up. "What happened?"

"I asked that idiot _what_ his actual name was so I wouldn't be calling him by one of his mother's pet names and he told me I could call him whatever I wanted. Is he some kind of idiot."

"This is Dudley we're talking about, so yeah. He is an idiot."

Aaralyn breathed a sigh of relief, glad she wouldn't have to call him by one of the nicknames. Of course, she now felt like an idiot as one of the nicknames actually used Dudley's name. She wiped a finger under her nose as she tried controlling her feelings. "I still don't get why he would say that. I mean, wouldn't you be embarrassed by that kind of nickname? Weren't you trying to tell me _not_ to call him like that."

Harry obviously contemplated what she said. "Honestly, I don't know what he's thinking."

Yet, the look on his face said he honestly knew what Dudley was thinking, yet didn't want to bother her with it for some reason. Aaralyn choked slightly. "Are you really going to a reform school?"

Harry's mouth twisted, contemplating her question. He shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever my aunt or uncle says is true."

Aaralyn's hands balled into fists. She stormed back over to her place, slamming as many things as possible. She then stormed up to her room, plopping down onto the bed. She picked up one of her novels but headed over to her desk. She now jotted down her thoughts about Harry going to reform school and how he didn't want anybody to know that he'd actually stood up for himself for once. "That's why he didn't want to say anything."


End file.
